


Laytonmobile

by elementalram



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Car Hand Job, F/M, Fanart, NSFW Art, Public Hand Jobs, Puzzles, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:18:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalram/pseuds/elementalram
Summary: During a long car ride home, Emmy and the Professor can't help but exchange a few puzzles to help pass the time.  Though it starts out innocently enough, the situation soon deteriorates into a more lecherous kind of fun.More NSFW fanart added :)





	Laytonmobile

Emmy and the Professor waived goodbye to Luke as he stood on the top of the stairs leading to his parents' house. His mom and dad stood behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders as they waved.  The couple wanted to have their son home for a local celebration in Misthallery, and although they invited the Professor and his assistant, they unfortunately had to decline.  It was testing season, after all, and there was too much for them to do at work to take time off at the present.

So, after pleasantries were exchanged, tea consumed, and goodbyes were said, Emmy and the Professor walked back to the edge of town to return to the car. Emmy sat behind the wheel so the Professor could work on some light grading on the return trip. They sat in silence as she turned the car back onto the small road that would lead them through one of the many forests and back to London.

After a while, the Professor put down his pen. ”Say, Emmy, I think I have a puzzle that you may enjoy,” he said, a delighted grin spreading over his face.

“Is that so?  Professor, have you been doing your work or just thinking up puzzles?”

“Nothing says I can’t do both,” he said with a laugh.  “Are you ready?”

“Lay it on me, Professor.”

“What five-letter word becomes shorter when you add two letters to it?”

“Becomes _shorter_ when you _add_ to it?”  She wrinkled her nose in thought.  Suddenly, she clicked her tongue. “Of course, you tricky devil.  It’s the word ‘short.’”

“Excellent solving, my dear!” he leaned back, obviously tickled.

His laughter was infectious.  “I made _short work_ of that one, didn’t I?  Go on, give me another one then!” she said, excited.

"Okay, I do have another, but this one is a bit more involved.  I'll tell it to you now, but I'll understand if you need to wait until we get back to the city to give me the answer."

“Oh?  Why is that?"

"Well, since you're driving, you may not be able to concentrate on it fully."  He gestured vaguely towards the steering wheel and the road ahead.

“I see. You think I can't multi-task, is that it?  Well you're in for a surprise!"

"Certainly I didn't mean to imply such a thing, but I am delighted at your enthusiasm!  Okay, here it is:

“Two people far away from one another have miraculously fallen in love, but they are prevented by their families from meeting in person.  For the purposes of this puzzle, I’ll call them Romeo and Juliet.  Romeo wants to send Juliet a present, but in their city, any package sent between them will be stolen unless padlocked first.  Now, both have padlocks to spare, but none to which the other has the key.  How can Romeo get his gift to his fair Juliet?”

Emmy thought about it, staring fixedly ahead as they sped down the narrow street.  With a grin, the Professor returned to his grading.  After a while, they came upon a bend in the road and she slowed the car down.  After yielding to an oncoming horse-drawn cart, she turned the car and continued down the road.

Finally, she spoke.  "I think you’re trying to fool me, Professor.  Does Romeo just deliver it by hand?”

The Professor smiled. "I'm afraid not, my dear.  Their families wouldn’t allow for it.  Care for a hint?"

"No no, I can do this!”  She put a hand up between them as though to halt any further words.

She returned to a thoughtful state.  Tall evergreen trees flew by on either side.  A pothole in the road was fast approaching, but in her introspective state Emmy neglected to slow  the car down, and the two of them were jostled in their seats.

"Careful, Emmy," cautioned the Professor.

She sighed. “I'm sorry, Professor.  Alright, you win!  Give me a hint."

“Certainly.  How about this: Romeo will have to send out the same package twice in order for them to be successful.”

She contemplated the new information, feeling more confused than before.   _Twice?  Maybe he means there are two packages?_   The car passed over the crest of a tall hill.  Suddenly, they were flying down it at an incredibly terrifying speed.

“He mails her the key with the package.”

“Okay, yes,“ he exclaimed, desperately hanging onto his seat belt with one hand and his papers with the other.

"Was that really the right answer?" She turned to look at him. “Somehow I can’t help but think you're trying to pull a fast one on me."

"Nothing of any speed is being pulled, I assure you.  Speaking of which, Emmy--"

Emmy wasn't satisfied, but she returned her focus to the road.  They slowed down to a more reasonable pace as they neared the bottom.  She thought about it again as they plateaued, rolling the words around in her mind.

“No, that wasn't it.  He'd have to put a padlock on the key too!  Tell me the real answer.”

The Professor straightened out his papers and fixed his hat.  "Yes, well.  Alright, it goes like this: Romeo sends the gift to her with his padlock on it.  Juliet, upon receiving the package, adds her own padlock to it and then returns it to him.  Romeo removes his original padlock and sends it back out, and so in the end, Juliet receives a gift that only she can open.  Do you follow?”

“Yeah, I follow,” she huffed.  After a moment of thoughtful consideration, she spoke up again.  “Alright Professor, I have a puzzle for you now.  And since I had to try and solve a puzzle using only half of my brain, I expect you to do the same.”

“Pardon?”

She flashed him an enigmatic look, then reached over to put one hand on his thigh.  She ran her hand down the length of his leg, stopped at the knee, then returned along the inside of his thigh.  With her eyes still on the road, she trailed her fingers up the front, pausing there, then deftly undid the button.

“Do you follow, Professor?” she baited as she pulled the zipper down.

“I’m not sure this is the safest thing we could be doing while speeding down the road, Emmy.”

She pulled him free of his pants.  He was already getting hard.  She licked her hand to thoroughly lubricate it.  “Certainly you’re not about to let a puzzle go unsolved?”

He held the brim of his hat, sweat forming on his brow as she found a slow, steady rhythm.  She could see a kind of steely resolve burning in his eyes as he gazed out at the road ahead.  “Give it to me.”

She laughed.  “I knew you couldn’t resist.  Okay, here’s one I know you’re familiar with: If you wrote all of the numbers from 1 to 400 on a piece of paper, how many times would you have written the number three?”

He expelled all the air from his lungs, then took a deep breath, turning to set his stack of papers down on the back seat. “Yes, alright. I like these. They’re straightforward enough.  And I’ll start with 300-400 and work my way backwards.”  She swiped a thumb over the tip and he closed his eyes.  After a pause, he began, “For starters, since you will have already written ‘three’ twice by the time you get to 301, it follows that you’ll have written it at least a hundred times by 399.”  He leaned back and glanced out the window at the fields passing by.

“… So is that your answer?”

“No, of course not.  Theres also a three for every ten.  So, add 10 more threes for a running total of 110 threes.”  He paused.  “Have you ever noticed how a word seems to lose its meaning when you repeat it enough times?”  He said the word ‘three’ a few more times under his breath.

“You’re losing focus, Professor,” she chimed.  “At this rate, you’re not going to find the answer before you blow your load!”  She increased the pace, grinning nefariously.

He shot her a tortured look from under the brim of his hat.  “You’re getting way too much enjoyment from this,” he said, but he knew there was a truth in her words.  His heart was rapidly beating in his chest.  He looked down and immediately regretted it; the sight of her soft hand lasciviously jerking him made his breath catch and the buildup in his abdomen intensify.  He gripped his knee and tried to press on.

“Theres three— I mean ten— ten ‘threes’ in the ten’s column between 30 and 39.  Right.  So its a matter of multiplying....”

The Professor registered with a start that the towering evergreens that once dotted the scenery had been replaced by towering brownstone structures.  They were getting close to the city proper and he was undoubtedly getting close to bursting.  And though they were still on the very outskirts, there was still a terribly risky element to the whole affair.  He tried to avoid looking at the traffic cop ahead as Emmy's hand moved at an ever-quickening pace. 

As Emmy skillfully rounded another corner one-handed, she noticed that the Professor had fallen oddly silent.  Emmy looked over.  He was slightly bent forward, one hand pressed down on his balls through his pants with his thumb hooked around the base of his cock.  He waved the fingers on his other hand in a beckoning gesture.  “Tissue. Emmy. Please.”

“Oh!  We only have those papers you were grading, I think.”  She was suddenly aware of how perfectly taut he was now.  As she stroked the head, she was taken aback by how much bigger it was.  He was dribbling precum all over her hand and his pant leg.  Until now, she had been concentrating on navigating the city streets, but was thankful to be approaching a red light.

The Professor quickly moved his free hand over the tip to shield his dashboard from the oncoming deluge, his eyes shut tight.  With a groan, hot, white ropes shot out and sprayed against his hand.  Emmy continued pumping until the very last drop seeped out, and the Professor placed a shuddering, sticky hand on hers to halt the movement.  He leaned back, breathless, with his hat askew.

“Wow, Professor,” Emmy said, extricating her hand and wiping it on his pant leg.  The light turned green, and she turned back to the road.  “I think we need to get you cleaned up before we go back to the office.”

“One hundred and eighty.”

“Say again?”

“There are 180 threes between 1 and 400."

"Oh, huh."  She laughed.  "I don't actually remember the answer, but that sounds about right to me."She glanced away from the road to look at his face.  He looked elated; Emmy inwardly beamed over the job well done.

"It's right," he said, looking down at the mess in his lap.  He looked back up at Emmy.“As are you.  Why don't we go to my flat; I'll get cleaned up, and then it'll be _your turn_ for another puzzle."

He placed a hand on her leg, sliding his hand down to her knee and back along the inner thigh.  He applied a little pressure with one finger.  Emmy was beginning to turn pink. 

“Do you follow?”

 

"It kind of looks like a little sliding box puzzle <3"

 

**Author's Note:**

> I got the second puzzle that the Professor gives to Emmy from a paper written by David Winkler of Dartmouth College. I changed the wording a little, but the spirit of the puzzle is all his. It makes me so happy that there are people out there dedicating time and energy into making good puzzles! If you'd like to read it, the PDF is here: 
> 
> https://math.dartmouth.edu/~pw/solutions.pdf


End file.
